Once in a village in Alaska, there lived three children, a mother and a father. They lived in a small house covered in leaves. Susan, who was the youngest child, was sitting on the couch, staring at the brown brick walls. Jonathon was watching with his mouth wide open. Jonathon was older than she, but still not the oldest. The oldest, Christina, was putting on makeup, and looking in the mirror. Jonathon ran over to the window and opened it. Then seized Susan and pushed her over to the window.
“Snow,” Susan said softly.
“Snow,” Jonathon said back. Jonathon ran over to the bathroom where Christina was. “There is something wrong with Susan,” Jonathon said.
“Shoo fly don’t bother me!”said Christina. Jonathon knew she would be of no help. He started walking back to the window where Susan sat to make bratty Christina think Jonathon was going away. Then ran back grabbed (the brats) phone and ran as quick as lightning! “Come back little moth!” Shouted Christina. Then their parents came and broke it up. Jonathon grabbed his parents hands and pulled them over to Susan, but his parents just went back into their rooms like it never happened. Jonathon pulled Susan outside and threw a snow ball at Susan. She threw it back. Then she lay on her back and started making snow angels. Then suddenly the angels started to rise and more snow started to come down. The next to hours they where playing in the snow. Then the next day she was dead. Jonathon was crying around her grave. The rest of the day he didn’t talk to his family or eat dinner.
By Faith Piowaty